“I’m asking,” I say, feeling dizzy, “if I’m the only one who feels like this?”
“Like what,malyshka?”
“Like I’m going to die if I can’t touch you.”
I’m worried the real confession is in my eyes:Like what’s between us is more than just physical.
A devilish smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “You can touch me wherever you want.”
I drag in a ragged breath. “I want you to touch me, too.”
His eyes darken as he shifts closer. “I can do that.” The promise in his low rumble sends a shiver racing through me. “I don’t want to rush you into something you aren’t ready for.”
My hands slide over his broad shoulders and curl into his nape. “I trust you not to hurt me.” My hold on him tightens enough that I know he feels my nails pressing into his skin. “I just wantmore.”
His gaze pins me. “I will never hurt you in any way you don’t ask me to.”
The words spike my arousal into hyperdrive. Sharp and bright, every nerve in my body is awake and alert.
“More?” He repeats, his pupils so blown his eyes look black.
“Please.”
That single word is all it takes.
Liev’s hand slides roughly into my hair, fingers threading through the strands and tipping my head until our gaze locks. “Tell me if I go too fast.”
Need pulses through me. I can’t wait any longer. I surge up, crashing my mouth against his. This kiss is harder—hot and claiming. His tongue strokes deep, tasting every corner, while my fingers twist in the soft cotton of his shirt, anchoring myself against the storm building inside me. My heart hammers violently against my ribs until I wonder if it might burst.
His lips leave mine to burn a slow trail of kisses along my jaw and down the sensitive column of my throat. I arch instinctively, offering more access.For one heartbeat, I wonder if he feels the uneven texture of my scars beneath his mouth. But then his large hands clamp on my hips, his thumbs pressing into the indentation of my waist through the thin fabric of my pajama shorts. He pulls me flush against him, and I stop thinking all together.
I feel him, thick and impossibly hard, perfectly aligned with the ache between my thighs. When I roll my hips, the friction causes white-hot lights to spark behind my eyelids.
“Oh, god,” I moan, muffling the sound against his shoulder.
He hushes me softly, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Keke’s next door remember?”
I press a finger to his lips in return when my hand slips under his shirt pushing it up and he makes a noise. My palms flatten against the scorching heat of the skin beneath, my nails tracing over the hard ridges of muscle. Liev groans, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through my chest and settles between my legs, intensifying the throbbing.
I explore slowly. Fingertips glide over his inked skin, following the dark swirls and sharp lines that disappear beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms. When I drag my nails lightly down the front of his abdomen, his stomach clenches, muscles jumping under my touch.
“Take it off,” I breathe.
He lifts his arms without hesitation, letting me peel the shirt over his head.
The lamplight highlights all of the hard planes of his decorated torso as he lowers himself over me. I stare, breath caught, then my hands are back, learning every dip and rise.
His fingers skim up my sides, grazing the ribs beneath my thin tank top, raising goosebumps in their wake. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs, voice almost pained.
I gasp as his thumbs brush the undersides of my breasts. He teases higher in maddening passes, circling closer to the aching peaks with every stroke, until I’m panting, hips shifting restlessly against his.
“Please.”
He smiles—an almost predatory expression—but his eyes hold something softer. “I think I like you begging.”
He kisses me again, deep and drugging, tongues tangling when his hands finally close over me. Warm, calloused palms cup my breasts under my shirt, thumbs circling the tight, straining nipples. I make a broken, needy sound I don’t recognize. Liev swallows the sound even as he answers with his own low moan.
“You still with me?” he asks against my swollen lips
